Highway Robbery
by DrunkOnJerichohol
Summary: Following a shocking loss in the Royal Rumble match, Roman returns to his locker room to find that comfort for his misfortune isn't too far away. Fluffy little one-shot.


******Disclaimer**: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Any and all original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

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A/N: Hey, guys and gals! This is just a quick little one-shot I thought up while I was in the middle of writing the chapter for my other Shield story,_ It All Falls Down_. Eva Marie sort of has a bad reputation in my other fic, and the thing is, I honestly don't dislike Eva Marie, contrary to what it might seem like. I'm an avid watcher of Total Divas, and I've always thought she was crazy beautiful, so tonight I said to myself, 'Hey, why not pair her with Roman and see what happens?' So that's what I did, and I'm not sure how you will all think it turned out, but I like it, so here's hoping. Thanks for reading, leave a review if you want to, and thanks for giving this story your attention and time. It is always appreciated.

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Batista robbed Roman Reigns blind. He robbed the fans. He robbed _everyone_.

The Royal Rumble had been Roman's time to take his rightful spot at the top of the proverbial ladder. He felt in in his blood, in his bones, in the determined walk he made down the ramp to the ring, in his shoulders every time he dished out a spear. The Rumble had been his for the taking, until his chance was stolen right out from under him, and as much as he wanted to blame Batista for not being able to stay away, he couldn't. His loss was his own, and he would take it and tack it up on his internal memory wall, using it as the fuel to never let such an injustice take place ever again.

The crowd had been behind him, inundating his ears and flooding his brain with chants of his name, growing louder with each passing second as he stared Dave Batista down, ready to spear him right through his core and toss him out of the ring like a forgotten pile of trash. Roman had earned that moment, even watched it play out briefly in his mind's eye, but after a series of mishaps, he crashed to the ringside mats, left to lick his wounds while Batista's theme blared through the speakers, much to the dismay of the fuming crowd. If he'd had to lose, Roman at least had the pleasure of hearing the chorus of boos as they rained down on Batista. He may have been The Authority's one big hope, but he wasn't the fans' choice.

In that sense, Roman _had _won. Contending with a loss was made easier in knowing the masses who had paid money for their tickets to see a good show were revolting against a man who had only gotten lucky. Luck was the only force at play, bringing Dave to victory. On any other night, Roman wouldn't have taken his eyes off the prize for even a second, not to allow someone else to come in and toss him over the top rope, to the unforgiving mats below, where his body certainly didn't belong. He belonged in the ring, celebrating by standing on the middle rope and posing while the fans cheered his name.

All he could tell himself as he made the long, lonely trek to the back was that he had tried, as had his friends, and fate had intervened. There would be a time for wins, but just as victories came flowing their way, losses were imminent, and the only real loss was one in which he didn't learn from his mistakes. Roman picked his head up and held it high, stepping proudly backstage and placing his hands on his hips as he found Seth and Dean leaning against the hallway corner, eyes darting guiltily as they waited for his arrival. Dean waved him over, and Roman held up a halting finger, breezing to the nearby chest of bottled waters and tugging one out of the sea of melting ice, wandering over to his friends.

"Hey," Dean said, speaking lowly. He was uncertain about how Roman might react to the loss, so he reached out and clapped him on the back to show that there were no hard feelings from his side. In the Royal Rumble match, it was every man for himself, and Roman couldn't place blame on his friends, when he had been the very person to throw them over the top rope, in the end.

"Don't be weird about this, guys," Roman said, turning the cap on his water bottle until it came off. He tossed it blindly down the hallway, where it landed with a soft clink as he chugged down the cool liquid, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand when he finished. "It was a match, and we went out there to do what we had to do. Only one of us could have won, so at some point, we were going to have to turn on each other, no matter what."

"I'm glad you see it that way, then," Dean said, relieved as he let out a breath through pursed lips. Seth smirked, patting Dean's shoulder as he addressed Roman.

"Yeah, this guy was sweating bullets, thinking you were going to come back here and kick his ass."

"No, I wasn't," Dean said, denying Seth's claims, even though he spoke in a way that magnified his true feelings. He really _had_ been worried. Roman laughed, giving Dean's left cheek a friendly slap.

"It was only a match, man," he reminded him. "We'll come out of this stronger than ever, and, you know, it's probably good for us to have some healthy competition every once in a while, even if it's against each other."

"Maybe so," Seth agreed, catching his chin between his thumb and forefinger as he rubbed his skin thoughtfully and narrowed his eyes. "I think you might be onto something, Roman."

"Yeah, well, at any rate, I've got to go get a shower, so I'll catch you guys later," he said, sweeping past them. As with most nights, Roman was sharing a locker room with Seth and Dean, and it would only be a matter of time before they came barging in to take showers of their own. Seth was known for taking abnormally long ones, so Roman wanted to beat him to the punch, but when he turned the doorknob and stepped inside, he had a surprise waiting for him in the unlikeliest of forms.

The peep-toe pumps she wore, a fine onyx shade, contrasted with the soft tan of her sun-kissed, golden skin, and Roman's gaze followed her foot all the way up to the lower hem of her dress, which came to rest halfway up her thigh. It was the first time he had seen her in an all black dress, but she was a vision to behold. He followed the shiny leather of her dress as it hugged her curves and the material parted at her cleavage, dividing into two separate straps that formed a halter design, where they tied securely around her neck. A flash of bright crimson cut into the dress, creating a patch of fiery red, and it took his eyes a bit of adjusting before he realized it was her hair, resting on the hem.

She smiled, slipping a tuft of hair behind her ear and tapping her foot lightly against the floor. Roman shut the door and turned the lock, not wanting the guys to walk in on what could turn out to be quite a moment to remember. Forget the match, or his loss; a beautiful girl was draped across his couch, looking ready and raring to please him. Her hands were gloved, covered in the same black leather her dress was made of, and she bared her teeth, biting at the fingertips on her right hand as she tugged upward to loosen the glove, pulling it off the remainder of the way with her free hand. She did the same to the other, tossing it onto the couch beside the first glove.

"Hey," she greeted, arching her eyebrows and giving a light nod, which Roman returned.

"Hey. What are you doing in here?" he asked, quickly clarifying his question. "I mean, not that you're not welcome, but, uh, what's going on?"

"That was a tough match out there, and an even tougher loss, I'm sure," Eva Marie said, cherry-red lips uniting to form a displeased pout, but only for a matter of seconds. Her hair fell in large waves, framing her face and bringing out the natural glimmer in her eyes. Roman pressed his back against the door for balance, afraid his legs might give out. He was tired from the match, of course, but the tug from below the belt as he eyed Eva wasn't helping matters. "How do you feel?"

"I feel," he paused, clearing his throat, "I guess I'm good. It's like I told the guys: there will be other shots."

"Certainly, there will," she agreed, raising her slender legs and bringing them to rest on the couch as she shifted sideways in one fell swoop. She slid down further, until the back of her head rested against one arm of the couch while her feet dangled over the other. "You and I, we're friends, right, Roman?"

"I'd say we're definitely friends, yeah," Roman agreed, and they were. The Total Divas cameras had become a staple in the backstage area, no matter how against their presence some of the guys were, and in trying to dodge the cameras one day, Eva had been the one to whisk Roman away, showing him all the lovely, secret spots he could hide away from the cameramen until they retreated for the night. A friendship had formed somewhere along the way, and Roman was surprised to find that Eva had become one of his favorite people backstage, guy _or_ girl. He liked her even more in a black leather dress, leather gloves, and high-heeled shoes. "You're a cool chick, Eva. One of the few nice ones we've got back here, unlike some of the other vultures."

"Like Aksana?" Eva raised an eyebrow and smirked, and Roman couldn't help but laugh, shaking his head at the thought. He and Eva had bonded over finding ways to hide out from cameras and, in some cases, lurking women who didn't know how or when to take the hint that Roman wasn't interested. "She comes looking for you at every show and you duck out on her. You would think she would take the hint and move on, but she never does. Want me to get rid of her once and for all?"

"Nah," Roman shook his head. "I don't think she's a bad person. A little annoying, but I wouldn't ever want to go out of my way to hurt her feelings."

"Well, then, why don't you just come over here and sit with me?" Eva requested, patting the few inches left on the couch, where her body wasn't covering the cushions.

"Uh, probably because you're taking up the entire couch," he laughed, walking farther into the room and running a hand over his sweaty hair. "What are you doing in here anyway? I feel like you're about to ambush me with something."

"Why?" she asked, battling her eyelashes in a comical way that made him laugh again.

"Because you're wearing this sexy dress, and these sexy shoes," he said, motioning to her, "and I can't help but feel like it's all coming to a head. I heard you didn't even have to be here tonight. Your scenes for the next season of Total Divas are all filmed and you don't have a match, so you could have stayed home in bed if you wanted to. You didn't, so that must mean you're here on my couch for _something_, right?"

"Ding-ding-ding, you're a winner," she announced. Roman tossed his head back, chuckling to himself as he stared at the ceiling, wondering what he was about to get himself into. Eva was like the quicksand trap he always tested out, not quite knowing why, because once she pulled him in, he could never get back out, no matter what he tried to grab onto for leverage. Her beauty consumed him. "I came here to see you and the Rumble, and I even thought ahead and nicely asked Dean and Seth not to come directly back to this locker room after the match. Didn't you wonder why their stuff isn't here anymore?"

Roman glanced around, puzzled, and sure enough, he found that his friends' belongings were indeed missing. "Oh, shit, their stuff _is_ gone, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I asked them to go shower in another friend's locker room, so they went and found someone else. This is a good thing, though, because it gives us time to have our own little match."

"What match?" Roman frowned, looking more puzzled than ever.

"I really thought you had the Rumble won, and I saw the disappointment on your face after you got tossed out, so I wanted to make you feel better, kind of like what we always do for each other," she offered, gazing up at him with a soft smile. "We save each other from the crazies backstage, like how you hid me away that time when AJ was acting all weird and going off on me because she thought I was checking out Punk. We're here for each other all the time, is what I guess I'm trying to say, so let me do this for you."

"I'd love to, but what exactly is it you're going to do?" Roman asked, scratching his head and spying the open bathroom door, where a welcoming, hot shower awaited. "I don't mean to rush you out of here or be rude, but I'm really sweaty, and I should get a shower before it's time to get on out of here. What are you up to, Eva? Can you just spit it out already?"

"I think you deserved to win that match just now," she replied. "The Royal Rumble is one of the biggest pay-per-views of the year, and you shouldn't walk out of this arena without the win you so desperately deserved. You earned a win, and you should get one."

"How?"

"By pinning me."

"You want to head out to the ring after everyone leaves and let me pin you?"

"No."

"Then, what?" he asked, chuckling, despite the fact that he was inwardly losing his patience. Eva Marie was one giant mystery, like a big question mark in his life, and he never knew where she was headed. All he knew was that, most of the time, he liked the direction she led him. She was good for his heart, mind, and spirit.

"Come over here and pin me; right here, right now," she ordered. "You pin me for a three-count and technically get to walk out of this building with a win, even if nobody was here to see it besides me. All that matters is that it counts as a victory, so that years from now when people ask how you fared at the 2014 Royal Rumble event, you can tell them you won."

"I can tell them I won against a diva, backstage where nobody was around to see the win?" Roman said, quirking his lips into a lopsided grin. "Should I also tell them this so-called match happened on a couch in my locker room, and that you allowed me to pin you without even fighting for the win?"

"I'm not really dressed to fight, but, hey, we can fight to the finish if you want to. Anything to give you the victory so you'll smile and be the happy Roman I know and love so very dearly."

"I _am_ happy, Eva," Roman corrected, strolling to the couch and standing over her. "I even told the guys that I won't let this loss get me down. I tossed 12 guys out of that ring tonight, more than anybody else did, and that probably means more for my career in the long-run than an actual win would have. It shows the fans that I have the potential to be something great in the near future, and I will, when the time is right. I'm not depressed the way you think I am, so I really don't need this unofficial match or whatever it is, but thanks for the effort. It means a lot that you would try to do this for me."

"I'm not trying, though," she said. "I'm actually here doing it, if you would let me."

"I'll crush you under my body weight," he pointed out, kneeling down beside her. "If I seriously get on top of you, you'll suffocate."

"Oh my gosh, it's not like you'll be on top of me for an hour. It's only for a fast three-count."

"And then what?"

"Then, you have a win on your official record for this year's Rumble, and I have the pleasure of knowing my hot guy friend was on top of me. We both walk away winners," she beamed, pinching his cheek and outstretching her arms, where a charm bracelet dangled from her right wrist. Roman flicked the charms with his fingertip, mulling over her offer. It was all in good fun, and he wasn't going to turn down a friend who only wanted to cheer him up. "Let's do this, buddy."

"All right, fine," Roman finally accepted, rising up and climbing on top of her. He positioned his legs on the outskirts of hers and blanketed her body, hiding his face in her neck and drinking in the scent of her jasmine and rose fragrance. His lips brushed against her skin as he said, "Go ahead. Make the count."

"One," she said, tapping the back of the couch with her hand, "two," she called, running her free hand over Roman's hair as she called the final number, "three! You win."

Roman lifted his head, only long enough to cup her cheeks as he brought his lips down on hers, locking Eva in the clutches of a passionate kiss. She moaned against his mouth, slipping her arms around his neck and pressing her eyes shut, wanting the lack of sight to maximize the sensation she felt. He pulled away and brushed some hair out of her face that had stuck to her lipstick, smiling as her eyes danced right along with the twinkle in his own. He knew they had shared something special, a bond that would last long beyond the restraints of a single night, and Roman kissed her cheek, offering his gratitude the only other way he knew how.

"Thanks for the win, Eva," he said, bumping her nose with the tip of his. "It means a lot."

"You're welcome," she replied, flicking her finger against his bottom lip. "Since you didn't have a match at last year's Rumble, this is your first win at one. Now you can consider yourself undefeated at the Rumble," she winked.

"Good, because the fact that Batista won over me really _is_ straight up highway robbery," Roman joked, flashing his teeth as he laughed. Eva only nodded, returning his sentiments.

"Highway robbery, indeed."


End file.
